Matchbox Cars and Old Spice
by Deelightful76
Summary: A little hint of Lyatt set between Darlington and Hollywood. It ain't something, but it ain't nothing neither Shared credit goes to the fabulous PeachCheetah for the original idea and beta, and big love to fellow smonster MajorSam without whom it never would have happened.


The mood between the three was noticeably light and they all wore grins as they emerged in turn from the Lifeboat. Evidently, things had gone well in Darlington. Wyatt stayed at the top of the stairs and offered his hand to Lucy as she stepped out. She smiled shyly at him as she took it, and it didn't escape Jiya's notice that she was wearing the red jacket that Wyatt had definitely worn when they'd left. Well, now, that was interesting. Her eager suspicions were cast aside by the arrival of Rufus by her side, quickly enveloping her in his arms and pecking her lips.

"So? How'd it go? Good I'm guessing", she asked.

"It was actually really cool. Well apart from Wyatt driving like a madman in a chase with the police, and a bomb in the car, but, you know, otherwise really cool."

"A bomb! What!?" She looked horrified. Even more so when she spotted the bandage around his arm.

"Yeah but I disarmed it" he tried to make it sound casual while simultaneously grinning and feeling like a bit of a superhero. "Come on," he added, tugging her arm towards the kitchen. "I'm starving. I'll tell you all about it while we get some food. You eaten?"

Jiya answered with a shake of her head and fell in step with him, keen to hear more about his day.

Left alone, Lucy smiled at Wyatt, her eyes bright as she looked at him. "I enjoyed today a lot more than I expected, I may be a convert to the thrills of NASCAR yet," she winked. "And that driving? Ignore Rufus, you were pretty amazing."

He flushed at the compliment, but shrugged it off with a bashful smirk. "Yeah well, I've had some practice. It was fun though."

"Oh really fanboy, I couldn't tell!" she chuckled, swatting him playfully on the arm. He smiled at her again but didn't reply.

They fell into awkward silence, both stuck for words but neither really wanting to leave. Finally, Lucy let out a sigh before nodding her head and thumbing over her shoulder. "Well, I guess I'll go shower. I'll see you later Wyatt."

He called out as she turned to leave. "Hey Lucy?" She paused and looked back at him. "Do you, ah," he shuffled his feet and rubbed at the back of his neck. "Do you want to get a drink sometime?"

A tingle zipped through her and a smile raced along her cheeks. "That'd be nice". Then looking about her she quirked her brow. "Wait, is there a bar around here I don't know about?"

He scoffed. "Not exactly. I mean we are in a bunker…" His voice trailed off and he shrugged. "We'll make something up".

"Tonight?"

"Sure. I'll pick you up in an hour."

"It's a date," she said, nodding, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.

Walking away Lucy felt heat creep up her neck as she realised what she'd said. Oh god. Did he mean it as a date? Did she want it to be a date? OK, yes, she definitely wanted it to be a date and there'd been that moment in the trunk of Old Rusty earlier.. But, maybe he was just being friendly. Or worse, wanted to let her down easy. Oh god.

Wyatt grinned as he watched her walk away. He had a date with Lucy Preston.

xxx

Precisely one hour later there was a knock at her door and Lucy felt the butterflies that had been fluttering in her belly for the past 60 minutes transform into a flapping mass of scattering pigeons. She forced herself to take a deep breath and plastered a casual smile on her face before opening the door. Her heart raced to her throat and a genuine smile bloomed across her cheeks at the sight of him. He was dressed casually but smartly in dark jeans and a pressed white shirt, untucked with the sleeves rolled and collar open. On his face he wore a bashful smirk that made his baby blues twinkle.

"You ready for our date, ma'am?"

Lucy's grin broadened and a tingle of pleasure crept through her. So it WAS a date. She looped her arm into his. "Lead the way soldier".

xxx

It was fair to say she didn't have high expectations for a date venue given they were in a bunker, but a storage closet was definitely not something she'd imagined. And yet, here there were, stood in front of a doorway clearly marked 'STORAGE'.

Lucy searched Wyatt's face for any sign that this was a joke, but he merely reached over to the knob and, standing aside to allow her past him, said "After you", and opened the door.

Surprise was an understatement. She gasped, her eyes and mouth wide with shock as she entered the small room. It was bathed in the light of hundreds of twinkling fairy lights, there was a set of mid height shelves pushed against the back wall, with a six pack wet with condensation and a bowl of pretzels resting on top. Two bar stools were perched just in front. She became aware of the sound of music, and spotted an old radio tucked away on one of the shelves that was tuned to a station playing cheesy 80s pop.

"Wyatt, when? How?" She was lost for words. How on earth had he done all this in an hour? All she'd managed in that time was to have a shower, fix her hair and makeup – which consisted of a flick of mascara and a swipe of lipbalm – and get dressed. Well, ok, she'd gotten dressed 5 times as she agonized over her choice of outfit for a possible date, or not date, or casual drink in the bunker with her team-mate, finally settling on jeans, a pretty cream and burgundy blouse and simple ballet flats.

"Welcome to our very own bar! Do you like it?" His face was puppyish, seeking praise for being a good boy.

"It's amazing", she breathed out, overwhelmed. "I didn't even know this room was here, let alone… Wyatt, thank you. It's perfect." If he'd had a tail it would have been wagging.

"Ah, it's nothing", he shrugged. "I found the lights amongst loads of old Christmas decorations when I was clearing out the other storage units when we first got here, and I just thought", his voice trailed off not sure what else to say. _'It would be romantic',_ is what he just thought, but he wasn't going to say that now, was he. _Try and play it a little bit cool, Logan._

A couple of hours, a couple of beers and a couple of games of darts – he'd also found a board and had affixed it to one of the walls – and a lot of laughter later, Lucy stifled back a yawn. Wyatt smiled at her fondly.

"Come on Professor, time for you to go to bed", he said.

"No, I'm fine. I'm not tired"

"You've spent the last 10 minutes talking with your eyes shut and that's the third yawn you've tried to disguise. You're tired and you need to get some sleep. It's been a long day." He hopped up and held out his hand to her.

She scrunched her face into a petulant scowl that Wyatt thought was adorable. She didn't want the evening to end. He was such easy company and they'd talked more than they ever had previously. She'd talked about her mother, about Amy and Henry, and told a few raucous stories about her rebellious phase when she was at UCLA and when she'd wanted to join a band. There was one about her being in a mud wrestling match in her sophomore year that had ended with her first girl kiss that sent his mind reeling and turned his face bright red as he choked on his beer. Jesus, that image would be in his head for eternity.

He had opened up about his childhood and his asshole of a dad, causing Lucy's heart to rip. She'd overheard his conversation with Wendell, but hearing it again, seeing the clouds form in his eyes and picturing him as a frightened little boy out in the woods trying desperately to fix the engine to avoid a beating was almost too much to bear. She sat quietly and squeezed his hand, not wanting to press him. But there were good stories, too. Better times when his father wasn't drinking so much and had showed him a few moves on an old dirt track. There was the memory of his mother gifting him a set of matchbox cars on his 5th birthday and him playing with them on the porch. And of his Grandpa Sherwin who would pay him a couple of dollars to wash his pride and joy – a 1951 Chevy Styleline Deluxe in bottle green – and sometimes take him for a drive to town, letting him take a turn at the wheel. Lucy felt like she'd seen a whole new Wyatt in the last 2 hours and she liked everything she saw.

She felt another yawn coming on and begrudgingly realised he was right. She was exhausted. With a final pout she took his hand and stepped down from the stool. "Fine," she huffed. "And I thought I was supposed to be the bossy one!"

He rolled his eyes and merely laughed. "I'd best walk you home, you never know what creeps might be lurking in the shadows. Seems like a dodgy neighbourhood."

She chuckled. "Good thing I've got you to protect me then."

He squeezed her hand and met her eyes with his gaze, his tone soft and serious. "Always."

They strolled back through the halls in companionable silence eventually reaching her door. "Well you got me back home safely", she smiled. "Thank you for tonight. I had a really great time."

"My pleasure - ma'am", he winked, knowing she liked him saying it almost as much as it irked her. She blushed, conscious he knew the effect it had on her. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss to her cheek. Giving her a final dimply grin, he whispered, "Good night, Lucy."

"Good night, Wyatt."

She crept into the room and quietly lay on her bunk to avoid waking Jiya. She hugged her pillow to her chest, closed her eyes and smiled as she drifted off imagining the scent of fresh laundry, Old Spice deodorant, government issued soap, and that unmistakable heady scent she couldn't quiet put her finger on. The smell of him.


End file.
